Guide Me

Guidance.

That's what I need from you right now, God.
Wisdom.

Guidance.

A blinking light with an arrow, pointing me in the right direction in case I'm having a stupid moment and can't see the way.

Why are you so patient with me?

You never leave me.

It's hard to see you sometimes.

But you're never gone.

It's like I'm a kid in the pool playing Marco Polo.

The reason I can't see you is not because you aren't here.

I can't see you because my eyes are closed.

My eyes are shut.

Blinded by my own close-mindedness.

My human thoughts unable to comprehend your actions.

I can't see what you're doing.

And yet your voice still guides me towards you.

Walking by faith and not by sight has never taken on so much meaning.

You have a plan.

You do.

Bits, pieces.

Revealed to me everyday.

Slowly, surely.

Frustrating at times.

More times than I'd like to admit.

I want to fix it myself.

Take it into my own hands.

How foolish.

You made these hands.

You made me.

Crafted me.

And I think that my hands of clay can outwork your unchanging hands?

Foolishness.

Open my eyes.

I don't have to know it all.

I don't want to know it all.

You do.

That's enough.

But open my eyes so I can see that you're right there.

And that I don't have to worry anymore.